


Fingerprints

by havocthecat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Het, Sex Pollen, amtdi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-23
Updated: 2007-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havocthecat/pseuds/havocthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>This isn't Kate's first time offworld, but she doesn't make many trips outside of Atlantis. She's enjoying every minute of the fresh air, the bright sunlight, and the sounds that are unlike anything she'd ever heard on Earth. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/havocs_cry/20137.html) on LJ.

wheel of the body,  
the application of translucent skins.  
She practices pleasure:  
the pressure of three fingertips  
applying powder.  
Fingerprints of pollen  
some other hand will trace.  
\--[Girl Powdering Her Neck](http://beautymatters.blogspot.com/2000_02_07_beautymatters_archive.html), by Cathy Song

***

This isn't Kate's first time offworld, but she doesn't make many trips outside of Atlantis. She's enjoying every minute of the fresh air, the bright sunlight, and the sounds that are unlike anything she'd ever heard on Earth. It brings up memories of childhood camping trips, and that brings a smile to Kate's face.

When Colonel Sheppard falls back to ask how she's doing, it takes Kate a minute to realize he's talking to her. "Excuse me?" she asks, blinking at the bright sunlight. She squints and shades a hand over her eyes to get a clear look at him. "Sorry, Colonel, I was a little distracted."

"I can see that," he says, sounding amused. Kate's not fooled. The man's very good at pulling a mask on over his feelings. "I asked how you were doing. We can stop and take a break if the hike is getting to be too much for you."

Her feet are starting to ache. They have been for a while, but Kate doesn't want to admit it. Very few of the scientists that complain get taken on a second offworld mission, and she's determined that she needs to get out of Atlantis every once in a while. It's her job to guard her own mental stability as much as to guard anyone else's, and her mental stability is requiring the occasional break from therapy. "I'm fine," she says, smiling politely.

"You're sure?" Colonel Sheppard eyes her dubiously.

Kate's certain her hair is a mess, and her face is probably flushed, because she's a little out of breath, but all in all, she's doing just fine, so she just keeps smiling. "Of course, Colonel."

"You put on sunscreen?" he asks, still eyeing her. "You're looking a little red."

"Before we left," says Kate, and if her smile is a little fixed now, she knows Teyla's the only one who knows her well enough to see through it. Since Teyla's waiting in Chanar, the Numari's nearest city, waiting for them with Ronon, Kate's not too worried about being thought of as impolite.

"Because Rodney can lend you some of his homebrew SPF five thousand," says Colonel Sheppard, "if you think you're gonna burn, that is."

Her eyes wander from Colonel Sheppard over to where Rodney's walking twenty feet ahead of them. He's smearing sunscreen on his face, and complaining vociferously about having to make the walk from the 'gate to Chanar twice in one week, when they were just supposed to go there and back.

"I'm sure I'll be all right, Colonel," says Kate. She hikes her backpack slightly, adjusting the straps from where they'd been digging into her shoulder.

"Call me John," he says, radiating charm. "Seeing as how we're working together for the next few days and all."

Kate just keeps smiling, hoping that he'll go back to bantering with Rodney. "If you insist," she says.

Colonel Sheppard nods and starts forward again. "Told you she wouldn't want a break!" he calls out.

Rodney stops and gives Kate a baleful look. The complaints are all for show anyway, so Kate doesn't react. She just smiles at Rodney, then glances around as they keep walking. They've been following a stream. The banks are covered by beautiful blue plants that border whatever this planet's equivalent of cat-tails are, and low, overhanging trees that remind her of willows sweep the ground.

***

"What's your problem?" hisses John. "It's a nice day, so why don't you enjoy it?"

"I _am_ enjoying it," says Rodney. "I'd just enjoy it more if we didn't have to baby-sit."

"Who, Heightmeyer?" asks John. He shrugs, because he's gotten pretty zen about listening to Rodney's complaints these days. "She's a trooper."

"Fine," says Rodney, slipping the sunscreen into a pocket. "You could at least stop flirting with her."

"_Heightmeyer_?" John chokes back a laugh. They're way too far ahead for her to be overhearing them. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Call me John," mimicks Rodney, wrinkling his face up as he walked alongside John.

John resists the urge to reach out and cuff Rodney. Their usual field antics won't look so good in front of the expedition shrink. "Can it, Rodney," he growls. He glances back, and Heightmeyer's ambling along, but not at that much slower a pace.

She looks like she's enjoying herself, which is good. Someone ought to be, and John's getting a blister on his heel. He glances back again, and Heightmeyer's picking some flowers from the side of the stream. He might be worried at her being so far back, but this is a planet Teyla's been visiting for years, and Ronon vouches for these guys too.

***

They've settled down to make camp for the night. Firelight flickers against Colonel Sheppard and Rodney's faces as they talk quietly on one side of the fire. Kate's handheld glows faintly as she reviews her notes on what she knows about Numari culture. As leader of the Athosians, Teyla has a standing invitation to all of their celebrations, and she accepted this time on behalf of her entire team.

It's the first time they've got enough time to breathe. Teyla looks very glad, as she leaves Kate in the mess, and Kate can't begrudge her the chance to get out of the city and to a party.

Colonel Sheppard had explained what the Numari wanted to see Kate for. They'd discovered that Teyla's friend is a psychiatrist, and they had asked if Kate would be willing to trade knowledge and techniques with their own mental healers. Teyla, who knows just how frustrated and closed in Kate feels on Atlantis right now, had accepted on her behalf. So now they're walking along to Chanar so that Kate can be a guest shrink.

Kate responds to a curious glance from Colonel Sheppard with a faint smile, then glances back down at her handheld. She's got an extra battery on hand, along with a notebook and some pens in case she uses up all the power, so she's not worried about wasting it.

"Time to turn in," says Colonel Sheppard. He glances over at the tent Kate pitched. "You sure that thing's secure?"

Kate glances at the tent, then back at Colonel Sheppard with a slight shrug. "It's not that much different than the tents we had on Girl Guide camping trips," she says. "It's been a while, but I can still pitch a tent."

"Sometimes I forget you're Canadian," says Rodney, and Kate doesn't need to say anything in reply, because Colonel Sheppard gives him this _look_, and they're are back to bantering.

She quietly slips inside her tent, toes off her shoes, and then braids her hair back before laying down to sleep.

***

"She's a little standoffish," says Rodney. They're watching Kate disappear into her tent.

John nods. Kate's barely said a word all day, which strikes him as a bit odd for someone who talks for a living. "She's probably nervous," he says. "The last time she was off Atlantis was when that storm came through." When the Genii invaded, and that was a pretty tense time, even for the people stuck offworld. John's guessing that doesn't help Kate's attitude now.

"Really?" Rodney frowns. "It's been that long? I'd be crawling up the walls by now."

"Maybe this is the Heightmeyer version of crawling up the walls," says John. Their voices are a low murmur. "Teyla said Heightmeyer'd enjoy herself, and she'd know."

"Doesn't it worry you that those two are friends?" Rodney looks a little apprehensive. "Teyla can kick our asses, and then Kate will psychoanalyze us to death."

"She's a psychoanalyst?" John squints at the tent, trying to spontaneously develop x-ray vision so he can see if Heightmeyer's asleep yet. "Thought Teyla'd said she'd make it her personal mission to beat some sense into you with Bantos sticks if you did that thing where you talk loudly and insultingly about psychology in front of Heightmeyer again."

"I'm not in front of Kate, now, am I?" asks Rodney.

John ignores Rodney for a minute. He wouldn't be calling her Kate if he hated her, for one thing, and for another, Rodney tends to save his worst insults for his best friends. Also, John assumes that Kate knows that about Rodney, given that she hasn't, say, killed him yet on this trip. "Get some sleep," he tells Rodney. "I'll take first watch."

"I suppose you're not going to ask Kate to take a watch," huffs Rodney.

"She's not exactly qualified," drawls John, standing.

"Yes, well, that's totally beside the point, now, isn't it?" Rodney's voice has no real venom in it. He stands too, then stretches, and heads for his tent.

***

The sleeping bag is reasonably comfortable, and, once Kate pillows her head on her arm, she can fall asleep quickly enough. Her dreams make her restless, though, and she twists and turns a bit. Kate wakes up in the middle of the night feeling achey, which is what happens when a woman nearing forty sleeps on the ground. This isn't Girl Guides, and she's not twelve any more.

She sits up and stretches, arching her back. Kate can both hear and feel her spine crackling. As she moves, she catches a sweet, almost overpowering floral scent. It's only then that she remembers she picked some flowers earlier. She was thinking of pressing them between the pages of one of her older journals, one that she hasn't scanned yet so she can pass the hard copy around to the other social scientists.

It's dark when she rummages through her pockets for the flowers, and she peers at them in the dim light filtering through the flap of her tent.

They flowers are crushed from being in her jacket all day and all night, and the pollen leaves a dark smear along Kate's fingers. They look almost like cornflowers, and Kate smiles down at them. It's probably the first unguarded smile she's given all day. They're beautiful flowers, and while Kate knows she really shouldn't take them back to Atlantis, she can enjoy them while she's here.

Kate brings the flowers up to her nose and breathes in the scent, closing her eyes for a brief moment. It's nice to be out of the city. She sets them down on the ground, where she can see them from her sleeping bag, and then settles back down to try to sleep again.

***

The night's been quiet, except for the normal animal noises, and in the past three years, John's learned from normal in the Pegasus galaxy. He's on the verge of waking Rodney up so he can turn in, but he hears a stifled noise from Kate's tent.

"Dr. Heightmeyer?" he calls softly. There's no reply, and John creeps closer, on alert now. "Kate?"

There's no sound, but John can hear the barest hitch in Heightmeyer's breath. Visions of Kolya kidnapping her, of a Wraith sneaking in and feeding off her, an Iratus bug crawling up her body, latching onto her neck and sucking her life out all run through John's mind in a heartbeat.

He's through the tent flap instantly, flashlight on and trained on her, only to see that nothing's wrong.

Wow.

Nothing's wrong, except that Heightmeyer's shirt is pushed up to just underneath her breasts, and her hand is running idly across her bare stomach. Her eyes aren't quite focused, and she's got a tiny smile on her face. He's never seen her smile like that before. It's not politely interested, or concerned, or sympathetic, and those are the three expressions Heightmeyer has for interacting with everyone. It's a _hungry_ smile.

Her bra is flung in a corner, on top of her pack. The slide of Heightmeyer's breasts against the fabric is softer than when she's got a push-up bra on, which is every other time he's seen her. They bob just slightly as she looks up at him and her smile grows. John can see the tips of her nipples through the soft beige of her shirt, and while her eyes still aren't focusing right, somehow that doesn't quite matter right now.

John swallows. There's a streak of yellow against her stomach, and the only thing he can think of is that it's pollen from the flowers placed on the floor. They're crushed and rumpled, and maybe that's why their scent is overwhelming. "Something's wrong," he says roughly, taking three steps forward.

Heightmeyer starts at the sound of his voice. "I feel fine," she says. The sultry tones in her voice have him kneeling down to check her out. Why is it the medical person with them is one who's acting all funny? "Relaxed."

"You're not fine," John bites out. "You've gone from ice queen to sex kitten. That's pretty damn unusual, don't you think?"

The laughter coming from Heightmeyer is soft, but it slides under John's skin and nestles there. "Very unusual," she says.

He's never seen her like this, never thought of her as anything but the Lantean shrink. She's the woman who got into Michael's head, a Wraith's head, without blinking an eye. Now she's reaching for him, her eyes dark and forest green, and before John can even think about pulling away, one hand is circling his wrist. "Dr. Heightmeyer--"

The scent of the flowers fills his lungs, and it seems odd - distantly odd - that such small flowers have such a strong scent. "Call me Kate," she says, looking soft and still smiling. Her thumb sweeps across his forearm, and John lets her draw him closer. "Seeing as how we're working together for the next few days and all."

"Sounds familiar," murmurs John. He sets the flashlight down, and the shadows shift,but Kate still looks at him through half-lidded, unfocused eyes. John shakes his hand free, brings it up to cup Kate's cheek and meets her halfway.

Their mouths clash, and Kate's tongue darts out, licks at John's lips. He can take a hint. He opens his mouth to her, and their tongues slide together. She has a faint tang, and John presses closer. His free hand ghosts over her shirt, until he can cup it over her breast.

Kate moans softly into John's mouth. Her hands are covered in yellow pollen, and John feels it dust onto his skin as she pushes his flak jacket off his arms. She strips him of his shirt quickly, and her hands sweep along his chest.

A groan is torn from John's throat, and he unbuttons Kate's pants. She rises to her knees, tugs her shirt off and drops it on the floor. John breathes deeply, reaches out and drags his fingers along the yellow stain on Kate's abdomen. She's swaying now, and John leans forward, wrapping one arm tightly around her waist.

They lower each other to the ground, moving in slow motion. John pulls Kate's pants down, and she's naked. Her smile grows. "Now you," murmurs Kate, and John stands. He blinks, a little dizzy, and shoves his pants down. As soon as possible, he's covering Kate's body with his, sliding against her skin and breathing in the scent of musk and flowers.

When Kate stares up at John, he can see softness in her face. He feels her breasts crushed against his chest, and ducks his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. She cries out and arches into his touch,so John sucks harder. He's drunk on the scent of her, on the taste of her skin, and the velvety smooth feel of pollen between them.

John's got one arm bracing him up right now, but he's desperate to feel how much Kate wants him. He spreads his palm against her stomach, then lower, slicking his fingers through the wet heat of her vulva. His palm brushes against rough curls, and he twists his hand just enough that he grinds against Kate's clit.

Nails rake down John's back, and he looks up at Kate as he hisses in pain. "That's good, isn't it?" he asks. His voice is dark, almost guttural, and he slips two fingers inside her. She's drenched, and he's covered in her. As much as John needs to be inside her right now, he needs to see Kate's eyes flutter closed, to hear her crying out as she comes, pulsing against his fingers.

"John," Kate gasps, opening her eyes again to look at him. When he hears his name, John's eyes snap to hers. They're focused now, on him, and John falls into them. She cups his face and pulls him closer for a deep kiss, then draws faint yellow lines down his chest with her fingertips. "John, I want you to fuck me."

There's nothing in him that can resist the frantic, demanding tones in Kate's voice right now. He nods, and shifts against her body. Kate tilts her hips up, guides him inside. John's going to move slowly, but in an instant, she's beginning to surround him, and he can't help but surge into her. He's so hard, and this moment is everything he's wanted since he walked into this tent.

They move together, Kate's hips rolling as John moves, in and out, until Kate is clutching at him, her voice rising sharply. John doesn't pause, and Kate doesn't ask him to, just breathes heavily and urges him on. "Let go," she whispers, and with one last thrust, he does.

He breathes Kate's name and relaxes on top of her, feeling boneless and limp.

Kate chuckles and pushes at John, so he slides out of her and onto the ground. He's too exhausted to cover his mouth for a jaw-cracking yawn. Kate turns onto her side, eyes falling closed, and John slings his arm across her. He falls asleep feeling the rise and fall of her chest, and listening to her slow, even breaths. The scent of flowers is sweet and fading from the air.

***

Sunlight filters through Kate's tent, bright and yellow, and it's directly in her eyes. She opens them, then closes them again, squeezing them shut. It's too bright, and she's naked. She's pretty sure that's Colonel Sheppard's arm resting on her stomach.

He groans, and Kate smiles, because if she's gong to be in this situation, she may as well be amused by it. That's _definitely_ Colonel Sheppard cuddled up against her back, and he's certainly a typical male in the early morning. "This is interesting," says Kate.

"Interesting?" Colonel Sheppard groans again. He pulls his arm off Kate, and rolling onto his back. "What the hell did we just do?"

Kate sits up and glances down at Colonel Sheppard. She's not going to be ashamed of this, no matter how out of control and dreamlike last night was. "If you have to ask, I'm worried."

"I think I can figure it out," says Colonel Sheppard dryly.

She can't think of him as John. John is for the middle of the night, when they're out of their minds and desperate for each other's touch. "That's good to know," says Kate. She looks around for her shirt, and Colonel Sheppard hands it to her with a rueful look.

"So what happened?" asks John. He's tugging on his pants as Kate pulls her shirt over her head. "What caused that?"

Kate looks down at her hands. "The flowers, I think." She notices Colonel Sheppard staring down at her hands as well. They're covered in yellow pollen, and Kate abruptly wipes them off on her sleeping bag before reaching for her underwear and tugging them on.

"Do you ever lose control?" he asks, and Kate glances at him sharply. That intense look almost takes Kate's breath away. "Of course not. Not unless you get dosed up with alien sex pollen."

"It wasn't what I'd have chosen," Kate tells him. She's certain, for an instant, that he wants to make her lose control again. Then it passes, and Kate realizes she was wrong. "But it's what happened."

"So is that a yes?" asks Colonel Sheppard slowly. His eyes narrow as he looks at her. "Or a no?"

"I think Teyla's expecting us," says Kate. She reaches for her bra, then gathers her pants up. It might be cowardly of her not to answer, but she's got some serious self-examination in front of her for the rest of this hike. "Not to mention we should probably get up and moving before Rodney does."

"Too late," says Rodney dryly. He's holding the flap up, but he's staring at the ground right in front of his feet. "Teyla just radioed and wondered what the hold-up was. I figured you might want to let her know in person, Kate. Girl talk and all that."

Kate just smiles at Rodney, as politely as possible, even though all she'd like to do right now is curl up in her sleeping bag and hide. "Thank you, Rodney," is all she says.

***

They're on the last mile to Chanar. Rodney is winding down from his latest Captain Kirk-related rant, and John's sneaking a glance over at Kate. She's as far from the stream - and those damn flowers - as she can get.

"Are you going to talk with her at all today?" asks Rodney.

"I was thinking probably not," says John. He grimaces at Rodney's glare. "It's a bit awkward."

"That you two think you had sex because of a couple of flowers?" Rodney huffs at him. "Look at her! The woman hasn't said two unprompted words since she got out of that tent, and it's _Kate_."

"So?" John sneaks another glance, and Kate's head is tilted up. She's staring at the trees. She's a bit more serious-looking than she was yesterday, but it's not like John can ever tell what she's thinking anyway. "She looks fine."

"She looks like she's lagging twice as far behind as she was yesterday," says Rodney. He gestures expansively, and John ducks back to avoid being hit. "You know she's like Elizabeth and Teyla. Neither of them ever act like anything is wrong either."

"How is it that you're the perceptive one today?" asks John, frowning. Except he knows damn well something's up with Kate, and he just doesn't want to deal with it.

"Because you're being an ass." Rodney's got John there.

"How come you know so much about Heightmeyer anyway?" asks John.

"I just do," says Rodney.

John's pretty sure Rodney's been seeing Kate for therapy outside of that body-sharing incident with Lieutenant Cadman. He knows Rodney will deny it if he asks, so John just mumbles something incoherent instead.

"Whatever, Sheppard." Rodney drops back to talk quietly to Kate.

John pretends not to watch them, but he nearly trips and falls when something Rodney says pulls an amused smile out of Kate.

***

Kate turns slowly, looking over Teyla's suite at their inn. "This is beautiful," she tells Teyla. The hangings are a rich, deep purple, and the furnishings are dusky blue. There are two couches in a sitting area, and three doors, left ajar. There were two bedrooms, the bedspreads in a whorl of complementary colors, and one large master bath.

"I transferred to a suite when I knew that you would be coming," she tells Kate. "It is rare that we have a chance to spend this much time together."

"Mmm." Kate takes a seat on the couch and takes the cup of tea that Teyla holds out. "This is just what I need. Thanks."

"You seem troubled," says Teyla. She sits across from Kate and leans on the back of the sofa. "Perhaps tonight _you_ are the one who needs a friend to listen to her?"

Kate straightens. She doesn't shift her body language into something more receptive. She's known Teyla long enough that she feels comfortable with a less formalized rapport. "It's--" Kate pauses, searching for the right words. "It sounds cliched to say that it's complicated, but that's the best way to describe it."

"I find that many things are complicated, but can be simplified with some thought," says Teyla. She sips at her own tea, then glances at Kate over the rim of the mug, amused. "If I know you, then you have already put much thought into what's bothering you."

"I have," admits Kate. She twists her mug in her hands once, before catching herself and stilling her hands. "It involves Colonel Sheppard."

"John?" asks Teyla, and Kate finds herself smiling. Based on the look Teyla gives her, Kate wonders if she's let a little sadness creep into her smile. "Did something occur with John?"

It takes a minute to word it properly, even though Kate's been rehearsing how to discuss this with Teyla for the past several hours. "There are these flowers," begins Kate. "Little blue ones that look like a wildflower we have on Earth. They've got a very pungent scent."

"You mean _amoveo_," says Teyla. "They only grow alongside bodies of water. I did mention to both John and Rodney that it is not wise to spend much time in their presence."

"I picked a handful on the way here," says Kate, and she pauses at the look on Teyla's face. "In the enclosed space of my tent last night, the scent was overpowering."

"Why was John there?" asks Teyla. She sets her tea down, barely touched. "I did not think you and he knew each other so well that he would visit your tent."

"We didn't," says Kate. She sips at her tea. It's strong, just the way she likes it. Teyla knows her so well. She knows Teyla and Colonel Sheppard are close. Kate hopes this doesn't cause problems. "We don't. But last night, he thought he heard something, and he came into the tent to check on me."

Teyla nods, and Kate sees understanding dawn on her face. "The _amoveo_ overcame you both."

"Did it ever," says Kate, trying to keep her voice neutral. She sees the amused twitch of Teyla's mouth, and realizes she shouldn't have bothered. "And now I don't know how to feel about what happened."

"You are concerned," says Teyla. She leans closer, and the look she's giving Kate is knowing. "Is it that you think there is something between myself and John?"

"I know you would have mentioned a relationship with Colonel Sheppard," starts Kate. "But--"

"You shared a night with the man, and the _amoveo_ flowers, and still you call him by his title?" asks Teyla, chuckling and amused.

Kate curses silently at the heat blooming in her face. "It wouldn't be appropriate to call him by his name," she says.

Teyla takes the cup of tea from Kate's hand and sets it aside, then clasps Kate's hands in her own. "Kate, you are my dearest sister," she says. Her hands are warm against Kate's, strong and sure as she holds them together. "And John is my dearest brother. There _is_ an attraction, but it has always been unfulfilled, and I am with another."

"You haven't mentioned anyone," says Kate, staring curiously at Teyla.

Teyla's cheeks flush. "It is new," she says, and Kate smiles at Teyla. "I did not want to say anything until I was certain, but we are not here to talk about _my_ relationships."

"Not yet, we're not," says Kate firmly.

"Not yet," agrees Teyla. "Kate, if something develops between you and John, I will celebrate that for both of you." Sometimes Kate wonders how she ended up here, in an alien galaxy, closer to an alien woman than she is to her own family. She remembers the first time that Teyla called her sister. The explanation that, among the Athosians, bonds of family are made by declaration, as well as by birth, sits well with Kate's training in social sciences.

"Will we have to go to the mainland for a few days to celebrate with the Athosian part of the family?" asks Kate. Being Teyla's sister means a thorough education in Athosian culture and traditions, and includes spending time with them. Except for the anthropologists trying to pick her brain for cultural information, Kate's been enjoying it.

"If something more comes of last night, then perhaps," says Teyla, looking mischevious. "You and John can share a dwelling."

John has, so far, resisted the anthropologists. Kate's tempted to throw him to the wolves the next time they come calling. "Who ever knew an alien woman would be such a yenta?" asks Kate.

Teyla's hands tighten briefly on Kate's in a final gesture of comfort, and she lets them drop and leans back once again. "You know what a sister's duty is," she tells Kate.

"I do," says Kate. She rests her arm on the back of the sofa and, and then lets her head lean on her hand. "Which is why you're going to tell me all about this person you're seeing. How am I supposed to know if he's good enough for you otherwise?"

The laughter that comes from Teyla fills the room, and Kate smiles, relaxing into the conversation.

***

It's quiet tonight. The moons shining over Chanar are still full, and their light filters through the windows into the hallway of their inn. John strolls down the hall, restless and alert. He can't sleep.

Kate spent most of the day with the Numari mind healers, and then Teyla had whisked her off to dinner. John's barely gotten a chance to see her today. He's surprised that he wants to, but catching a glimpse of everything behind that psychiatrist mask is intriguing.

He knocks on the door of the suite that Kate and Teyla are sharing, praying that Teyla's gone to sleep by now, and that Kate's still awake. Half a minute passes by, and he's certain his rotten luck is holding, when Kate opens the door. "John?" she asks, peering at him through sleepy eyes. "Colonel--"

"Call me John," he says, and watches as Kate blinks the sleep from her eyes. He smiles at her, feels his stomach lurch when she doesn't return the smile. "I like it better."

"Teyla's asleep," says Kate. She glances over her shoulder, and John peers into the room with her. One door is ajar, the other is firmly closed. The third, he assumes, leads to the bathroom.

"I'm not here to see Teyla," says John.

Kate's mouth makes a silent 'oh' of surprise. "Come in, then," she says, stepping back and holding the door for him.

John walks in and looks around. "Nice," he says. "Nicer than the rooms we got."

He glances over as Kate laughs softly. "Teyla's known the Numari longer," she says. "She got the deluxe suite."

"Lucky Teyla," says John. He sits down on the sofa with Kate, not on the seat she gestures him to. "Look, Kate, I'm--" He stumbles to a halt and just watches Kate for a minute. She's quiet, but looks at him without any judgment. He wonders how long she spent in a mirror practicing that expression. "Does anyone ever get through your barriers?" he asks.

"Some people," says Kate. "If they want to spend the time getting to know me. It's not always easy."

"I want to," John tells her. He can't say anything more. It's not that he won't talk about his feelings. It's that he _can't_. The words stick somewhere in his throat, shoving against each other, until he gets a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Do you want to get to know _me_?" asks Kate softly, after studying him through the silence. John has the uncomfortable feeling that she can read through everything he's not saying. "Or is it the _amoveo_?"

"It's not the flowers," says John. He laughs, and it's almost a broken sound. All he can think about, all he's been thinking about all day is Kate's soft skin, the dark understanding in her eyes, the wild sounds she'd made under his hands. "It's not _just_ the flowers."

"If you want to find out what's behind my barriers--" starts Kate, and it's what lies underneath her words that draws him closer to her. She doesn't draw back when he takes her upper arms in his hands, his palms burning from the heat of her skin.

"I want to," says John, and then their mouths are meeting, and their hands are pulling at each other's clothing. Tonight is even sweeter than last night, hot and satisfying, with no flowers to cause a barrier between them the next morning.

Things are slightly awkward when John stumbles out of Kate's room at sunrise, and meets up with Teyla stumbling _into_ the sitting room of the suite. Kate's standing behind them, in the doorway of her room, and she's laughing at their embarrassment.

Things go well after that, though John _does_ have a few sticky minutes when he tells Teyla he'll beat whoever this is up if they hurt her. Teyla doesn't appreciate it in the spirit in which the offer is made.

Kate distracts them both with breakfast, though.

\--end--


End file.
